


An Atom That Can't Be Split

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Episode: s01e13 T.R.A.C.K.S., F/M, Rewrite, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who do you turn to if the person who makes everything better is the one causing all the pain?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Splitting the Atom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2784704) by [Lilsciencequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen). 



> Seriously long AN about to come guys but today marks the first anniversary of me posting on here!!!! So I wanna say, yet again, a massive thank you for every one who has ever supported me, whether you you've read everything, this is your first, or somewhere in between. There are far too many people to thank and I'm scared that I'll leave someone out if I try to do it, but you know who you all are. You guys have given me so much confidence to do this and I can't thank you enough. You guys are honestly the best. So I wanted to do this, to celebrate my one year anniversary, I wanted to re write my first ever fic, "Splitting the Atom". So here it is, re written, new ( and hopefully better) than my first go.  
> Hope you enjoy and thanks again.

When he heard the first gun shot, his heart stopped. He was just about to step on the stairs, his hand already on the bannister. That first gunshot made his hand drop, and he froze. He wasn't sure how long he was there for, how time had stood still for but when that second gunshot resonated through the building, he turned and ran, straight to the basement. Ignoring the figures walking up the stairs; two of which he knew, Mike Peterson and Ian Quinn.

Quinn shouted something after him, his voice laced with venom. But Fitz ignored it, only wanting to reach the basement, wanting to reach the one person, the only person, who mattered at this moment, when the world was quickly turning into a nightmare.

He tried to reassure himself as he took two steps at a time, that it mightn't have been her. That he was overreacting. But with his pounding footsteps, and his racing heart, he knew that wasn't true, deep down and he was trying to prepare himself for what he would see, what he would be greeted with.

But it didn't make it hurt any less.

In a sense, it almost made it worse.

Nothing he could have imagined could've prepared himself for what he saw. 

Jemma Simmons, lying in the basement, in a pool of blood.

Her own blood. 

As his feet left the last step, he knees buckled from underneath him.

"No," he said, staggering over to where she lay, hoping that there was still a chance. Hoping that he could still save her.

Hoping that she wasn't dead. 

Because a world without Jemma Simmons was a world that he didn't want to live in, a world that he couldn't live in.

Her stomach bloody and her blouse ruined, it was hard to tell if she was breathing or not.

Her pulse, barely there and threatening to fail at any second, was there at least.

He knew that he had to apply pressure to stem the bleeding, but with the amount of blood already covering the room, it would be to no avail. 

And he couldn't help but think how ironic that it was, that the only person who could save her, was Jemma Simmons herself.

His lips trembled, a whimper escaping them as he felt her pulse get slower, slower and slower before finally stopping. Her body finally giving up on her.

A terrible cry of agony escaped from Fitz, unable to comprehend that his best friend had just died in his arms. "Jems," he sobbed into her hair. "Please Jems."

As he cradled her limp body, her blood leaking onto his shirt, he first spotted it. Something that could potentially save her. Something that might be able to save her.

He felt one more time for her pulse, holding his breath. It hadn't completely disappeared like he previously though but had become so weak that he couldn't feel it the first time. 

Placing a kiss on her forehead, and running on adrenaline, he whispered. "I'm gonna make it all better Jems, I'm gonna make it all better."

She was always light, but now she was lighter than usual as he lifted her of the stone floor, and he couldn't help but blame himself for all that had happened.

If only he hadn't been upstairs.

If only he hand't let her come down here unarmed.

If only.

Those two words weren't going to bring her back.

Those two words were not going to make whoever did this to her pay.

But he could help her now.

He could be the one to save her.

He was here with her.

And so was it.

The Hyperbaric Chamber. 

That could save her.

If he lowered her body temperature enough, he could save her.

Setting her gently into the chamber, he lowered the temperature.

He didn't even look up when he heard the sound of a door breaking upstairs. Probably May.

He was too concerned with trying to save her that he didn't even hear the footsteps coming down the stairs and the scream that quickly followed.

All he was concerned about was the shaky breath that Jemma let out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been over a year since that I posted in this but I'm trying to get everything together with my fics and am trying to finish some of my multichapter fics before starting any new ones. So here we go. Thanks for checking out.

Though it took them only a number of hours to get to the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility, in Fitz’s eyes, it was far too long. He never left her side once during the flight, not even to wash her blood of his hands.

He couldn’t. He was scared to move in case something happened. He had to be there for her. He just had to.

It was just over an hour into their flight, her blood still on his hands, that May came by, with a packet of wipes. “Here,” she said, passing them to him. He dragged his eyes away from Jemma, and looked at what she was holding. His eyes, red and puffy, didn’t seem to comprehend what May was offering him. “To wash your hands,” she elaborated.

And he shook his head. He couldn’t. It was there as reminder, there to remind him that he had failed her, that he had hurt her, that he had caused her pain.

That she could die and it would be his fault.

May shook her head this time, and pulled one wipe out of the pack and gently took one hand in her own, and started to remove the red that stained them.

Fitz just watched her do it, the red lifting from his hands onto the wipe.

Once she was done, she left but not before staying. “We’re here if you need us.”

And then, he was alone with Jemma again.

***

Once they had landed, there was a medical team waiting for them. They came onto the plane and took the chamber, and rushed her into the building, and straight into the surgery theatre.

Fitz just watched them go, and then followed, once he found his feet again, and went to the waiting room, knowing that there was nothing that he could do at the moment.

So he sat and waited.

And once he could do that no longer he paced the waiting room.

And once he could do that no longer, he sat down again.

Time seemed to drag on and on and on.

At one point. Skye came to him, carrying a cup of coffee. He accepted it with thanks, but never drank it, he just held it, using the Styrofoam to warm his hands. He had tried to take a drink, but it was that hospital coffee that never tasted nice. It was too bitter, too watery.

But still he held it. Hospital coffee always seemed to provide comfort in the darkest of times.

At one point, sometime in the evening, or in the morning, Fitz didn’t know, nor did he care, a nurse came in and called out his name. He stood up and blinked. “Is she?”

“She made it through surgery. Barely though.”

“What… what happened?” he asked, scared to know the answer.

The nurse swallowed hard. “Her heart stopped once on the table. We managed to get it started again. The bleeding has stopped but the internal damage will take time to heal.”

“What internal damage?”

The nurse stared at him. “Damage to stomach and her intestines. It should heal.”

“Should?” Skye asked, picking up on the one word that turned out of change everything.

“She might not pull through. Her body has been through a lot. Her body has been put into an induced coma to try and allow it to heal.”

“Is there anything else?” It was Coulson speaking this time. He had come to stand beside the younger agents. “What could happen?”

“Her brain activity is low, that’s our main worry at the moment.”

“What’s the chances of survival?”

The nurse swallowed hard again, and turned her attention back to Fitz, knowing that he was the most important thing to her in this room. “At the moment, it’s more likely that she won’t pull through. That could change though. But we do recommend that you contact her family.”

Coulson nodded and looked at May, who rose. Coulson walked over to where she was standing and broke into whispered conversation, allowing Fitz and Skye to stand alone until Skye took a step back. Then it was just Fitz and the nurse. “Can I see her?”

She nodded. “Follow me.”

***

They made their way in silence through the white corridors, so bright that it was blinding and so quiet it was deafening.

“Here,” the nurse said, pushing the door open. “If you need anything, or you want anything, just feel free to call.”

And then she was gone.

Fitz entered the room, and felt his heart skip a beat once he saw her.

She was lying there on the bed, not moving.

She looked at peace, as she always did when she was asleep.

But she wasn’t asleep. Not now.

She was in a coma.

She was in a coma and she could be dying and it would all be his fault.

Because it was his fault that she was lying there.

It was all his fault.

If only he hadn’t allowed Quinn to shoot her.

If only he hadn’t allowed her to go down alone.

He blinked back the tears and took the seat next to her before lifting her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of it in a reassuring manner.

“Hey,” he whispered to her, knowing that she couldn’t hear him. “Hey, Jems. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? You have to be okay. Not just for me. For your parents. For Skye. For yourself. You’ve so much left…” he stopped and caught himself, trying to stop himself from crying but it didn’t work. Tears slid down his face, dropping onto the white blankets that covered her. Blankets that were trying to keep her warm. Because her body wasn’t able to do much for itself.

It wasn’t able to keep her warm.

Her heart was barely beating, the monitor beeping slowly, filling the silence that would otherwise be residing in the room.

And her breathing… she wasn’t able to breath without help, her lungs weren’t strong enough. A breathing tube was down her throat, providing the oxygen that she needed to stay alive.

“Please,” he begged, stroking her forehead. Her skin was pale and cold. Her eyes were also closed, her eyelashes resting against her cheeks, the light brown of them a stark contrast against her pale skin. “Please Jems. Don’t… don’t die. Please.”

He dipped his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you Jems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies for taking so long to post this again. Next chapter should be up within the next week. Thanks for checking out and hope you enjoyed. I love hearing what you guys think.


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz remained by her side for the rest of the weekend, not once leaving to eat, sleep or wash and Coulson just knew that he wouldn’t move, not for anything. But the doctors had spoken to him earlier that morning, saying that at this point, there was little chance of Jemma recovering, that her body had been through so much, that she had suffered too much. They had said that she was virtually brain dead, that it was only the ventilator and hospital equipment keeping her alive. The news had shocked Coulson, and he knew he would have to tell Fitz, to tell Jemma’s family, but that wasn’t something that he was ready to do, not yet anyway. The medical staff had, thankfully, respected his wishes but had told him that Jemma’s parents should know and soon, and decide what would happen next. She was their daughter after all. But later, he had told them that they could do it later, once they had told Fitz as in the end, he would never have been able to do it.

May had caught him as he left the medical base and headed back to the Bus and he didn’t need to say anything for her to know what had happened. She just knew. “What are you going to do?” she had asked, and for an answer, Coulson had simply shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

But he had told Skye, as soon as he found out. He had told Skye, the young woman, not even an agent at this point and she had been heartbroken. He knew that her and Jemma were close, and to hear that one of your closest friends, maybe even your first, was dying, it was hard. Coulson had told her that should the worst scenario happen, should Jemma not survive this (he couldn’t yet face to tell her that it was more than likely, that it was extremely likely that Jemma wouldn’t survive this), then S.H.I.E.L.D. would be there for her, help her with whatever would happen next.

Skye had thanked him the best that she could, and then made her way from his office, her shoulders slumped and her body shaking with sobs as she did so. Coulson didn’t see her for hours, and when she did come back to his office, her cheeks were stained with tears and her eyes were red and puffy. “I might have a way to save Jemma.”

***

He was still holding her hand, running his thumb over the back of it, her skin white as the sheets that she lay on. Her hands were colder than they normally were, and Fitz had tried to joke with her about it but he found no humour in his words, not with the situation at hand.

There had been no change with Jemma all weekend, something that had caused his fear and anxiety to increase. He knew what would happen if she didn’t recover, and he didn’t want to even acknowledge that. A world without Jemma, that wasn’t something that he wanted to live in.

He wasn’t sure that her parents even knew at this point, that their only daughter had been shot twice in a mission gone wrong, and she was now fighting for her life. He knew that they would soon have to tell them, explain what had happened if they already didn’t know.

Thinking of her parents, it only added to the pain that was currently residing in his stomach, a churning sensation that wouldn’t settle, a feeling that was as though he was going to throw up. There was just so much to think about, she had so many people who loved her, and thinking about Jemma dying, it was just too much to think about.

He remained with her in silence for another number of hours, when he heard the door creak open. He looked up and saw one of Jemma’s doctors come in, a grim expression on her face and Fitz just knew what she was going to say.

“Please,” he begged, hearing the pain in his voice, the very thing cracking as he spoke. “Please.”

The doctor, a one Claire Saunders, just sighed. “She’s effectively brain-dead Agent Fitz, the ventilator is the only thing that’s keeping her alive. We’re contacting her family later.”

He shook his head, not wanting to accept the inevitable, and he was now unable to see Dr. Saunders through his tears. “Please,” he tried again but it seemed that the woman wasn’t going to accept his pleas. He knew what having no brain activity meant, he knew that if it were true, then Jemma was gone, she was truly gone and that was something that he just couldn’t accept.

***

When Skye had first come to him with the idea of using the GH-325, he had been against it, knowing that what had brought him back wasn’t pleasant, and it wasn’t something that he wanted to subject Jemma to, not to cause her any more pain but then a tiny voice in the back of his mind convinced him otherwise.

It told him that she was young, that she was too young, and that if there was something that could save her, something that could bring her back, then he should try. He had to try. He owed Jemma that, he should give her the chance and not give up on her.

Would she give up on him, on anyone in their team if they were in that situation?

Skye had been thankful when he had told her they were going to try it, thanking him for saving her best friend but May and Ward had been cautious, warning him that this could be potentially dangerous, and have unseen consequences for Jemma, and if she were alive, would she even consent to this? But he had ignored them, he was in charge of them, and Jemma was part of their team, a rag tag family. And he wasn’t going to lose one of his teammates.

Out of everyone though, it was Fitz who he was most worried about. He was scared that the engineer was going to get his hopes up, and then the GH-325 wouldn’t work and his whole world would come crashing down. He would hate to do that to Fitz, to ruin his life like that because it would happen if Jemma died. Fitz wouldn’t recover, not really and that was something that Coulson feared.

He was still by her side, even when they moved her onto the Bus, of course he would be, there was nowhere else he would be when she was in a situation like this, and Coulson couldn’t help but pray that she would be okay, that the GH-325 would help, as he didn’t want to consider what would happen if it didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update but I am trying to finish as many multi-chapter fics as I can over the next couple of weeks so there maybe updates to fics you thought I had abandoned! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me and for all the love, it means so much to me!


	4. Chapter 4

“He really does seem to love her,” Trip commented from outside of the medical pod, watching as Fitz sat at her bedside. He had joined the Bus only a number of days ago with his and Ward’s S.O., a one John Garrett. The two of them had been sent to help with Jemma, whilst another team had been sent to search for Ian Quinn, something that was still unsuccessful at this point in time.

“He does,” Ward agreed, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Do you trust what Coulson is looking for?” Trip asked, not looking at the other agent.

Ward was silent for a moment before letting out a breath. “It saved him, I don’t see why not. If it can save her…” he trailed off upon hearing footsteps echo down the corridor. Garrett and Coulson were walking towards them, deep in conversation about the mission. When the two older men reached them, Coulson looked between the two of them. “Trip, you’re staying here. Fitz and May are staying with you. You’re in charge of Jemma.” The way he looked at Trip and the tone of his voice made both men think that if anything happened to Jemma, then there would be serious consequences. “Ward, you’re with us.”

Ward gave a brief nod in understanding, ready to get off the Bus and away from all things medical even for a number of hours. “And Skye sir?”

A wicked grin flashed across Garrett’s face. “She’s coming with us into the field.”

***

It was two hours later that Coulson and his team left the base, heading into the base that was supposed to be holding the GH-325, the only thing that would save Jemma at this point, and Fitz prayed to a God he wasn’t even sure he believed in that they would return, that they would be able to safe Jemma, that she wouldn’t die.

May and Trip remained close but not annoying him, leaving him in peace as he sat with Jemma. There was little to do, just monitor her vitals and ensure that everything went okay.

And it was until…

Trip burst into the room as soon as he heard the heart monitor whine, the green line no longer showing a heartbeat. Fitz knocked his chair back as he tried to take in what was happening. May grabbed him, pulling him out of the way as Trip began to attempt to resuscitate Jemma.

One minute passed, and then two and then…

The monitor came back to life showing a heartbeat, slower this time, not as strong. Fitz didn’t realise that he was shaking, that he was crying until May let him go and he stumbled back over to Jemma, collapsing on his knees onto the ground beside her, stroking her face, pleading with her to stay with him, to keep fighting, that she was strong, that she could do it. That she could fight it.

Trip himself collapsed back into the chair that Fitz had occupied, rubbing at his face with his hands, trying to calm himself down. He had never met Jemma Simmons before, but he knew of her, everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. did. She was one of their best, one of their brightest. Everyone knew who she was. He also knew she was young, but right now, lying in that bed, she looked oh so very young, her skin almost as white as the sheets that surrounded her, and the tube helping her to breath looked like it intruding, almost rude.

When she was in fact breathing again, her heart beating once more, May walked away, needing some time to herself. She couldn’t continue to look at Jemma when she was like that, deep down, the woman was still a kid, someone who was so innocent, who didn’t deserve all the pain and the hurt she had suffered since she had joined the team. And May couldn’t help but blame herself for the pain, the suffering that Jemma had endured. If she hadn’t asked the young biochemist to join the team, then she wouldn’t be lying there, fighting for her life.

Fighting a battle that she was, slowly but surely, losing.

***

She was okay for the next two hours, Trip and Fitz keeping an eye on her vitals, making sure that nothing else went wrong. They were not what they should be, her body not getting enough oxygen, her heartrate too low. But there was nothing that neither Fitz nor Trip could do, not at this point in time.

They needed the GH-325, at this point it would be the only thing that would save her. And even though Trip didn’t speak these words out loud, he knew that Fitz knew. The young engineer looked heartbroken, his eyes red and puffy, but he wasn’t crying. Not anymore. It seemed like he had no more tears that he could cry. He was sitting with his head on her bed, murmuring nonsense to her that Trip could never understand.

Footsteps echoing behind him caused him to push himself of the door and walk out of the room, seeing May walking up to him. The older agent’s face was emotionless, blank but Trip could see the pain in her eyes. “How is she?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Trip shrugged, letting out a breath. He didn’t even need to speak for May to know just how bad it was. He cast a look over his shoulder, staring at the young Scotsman, at just how much this had destroyed him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to reply to May. He opened his mouth again when he heard the thundering of boots down the corridor, and turned to see Skye racing down the corridor, breathing heavily.

She had something clutched in her hand, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She couldn’t speak by the time she reached them, despite how hard she was trying.  She panted as she handed Trip the syringe, and watched as he ran in.

This seemed to alert Fitz, knocking him out of his stupor. “You got it?” he asked, his voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. “You got it?”

Trip nodded, administering the unknown but potentially miracle cure to Jemma as everyone else made their way into the room, intrigued to see what would happen, if it would really save Jemma.

“Don’t,” came a voice shouting from down the hall. Coulon. He ran into the medical pod, arm out stretched but he trailed off when he saw that he was too late, that Trip had already administered it. He remained silent, everyone did, staring at Jemma. She remained motionless until…

Her back arched horrifically, a low grunting noise escaping her until she collapsed back on the bed. The heart rate monitor flat-lined, letting out a shrill whine.

It was like the entire world had collapsed under Fitz, and all he could whisper was one word again and again and again. “No. No. No. No. No. No. No.”

He lifted his head up, placing a kiss on her forehead, stroking her hair, caressing her face as though trying to commit her features to memory, as if trying to take them in before he lost them forever.

Everyone remained silent, taking the two scientists in, Skye sobbing silently, May pulling her into a hug, comforting her, and Ward, Coulson, Trip and Garrett watching from the distant, taking in the fact that Jemma had just died there and then, right in front of them.

Coulson was just about to guide everyone out of the room, to let Fitz have some alone time with Jemma when they heard it.

The faint blip of the heart monitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter! Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me for this and all its irregular updates, I am trying to get it finished in the next week or so!


	5. Chapter 5

It was a number of days later that Jemma awoke, and a number of days after that until she was well enough to take in what was happening and what had happened.

Fitz had stayed by her side, watching her vitals, taking in everything as she started to recover. And seeing her alive, seeing her better and well… It was like all his Christmas had come at once, like all his prayers had been answered.

It was one of the best things ever, seeing her awake. The twisting of his stomach, the anxiety that clouded his mind, it had all faded, disappearing as soon as she was fine. Because he no longer had to worry about losing her, he no longer had to think about what a world, what a life without Jemma would be like.

When her eyes opened late on Friday afternoon, she blinked a number of times as she came around, taking everything in, coming to terms with unfamiliar surroundings. “Fitz?” she asked, trying to sit up by giving a sharp sudden cry of pain as she did so.

He reached over, helping to adjust her, helping her into a more comfortable position. “You’re okay,” he whispered to her, smiling at her. She returned the smile to him, hers not as big as his, her eyes somewhat still distant as the pain medication continued to help her, continued to soothe that pain in her abdomen.

“What?” she asked, tongue heavy in her mouth. “What happened?”

Fitz remained silent for a moment, trying to think about what to say, thinking of how best to tell her that she had been shot, that she had nearly died. “You got hurt Jemma, but you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

She nodded, trusting him because it was Fitz, of course she was going to trust him. And then to some unknown reason to her, she began crying, tears making tracks down her face, clinging to her lashes. And Fitz pulled her into him, but not so that he would hurt her, allowing her to cry, her head nestled into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.

***

Over the next number of days, Jemma started coming to terms with what she had been through, finding out all that had happened, and just how she had been saved. Hearing about the GH-325, she had been more than curious, wanting to find it out more about it, wanting to learn more about it once she was allowed back in the lab. But Coulson had told her the base had been destroyed, and there was only enough time to grab enough to save her life.

Something she was more than glad of. Being alive. She had vague memories of being shot by Quinn. The pain that she felt when the bullets went in. Her mind had blocked most of it out, and she didn’t really want to remember it. Thankfully, no one on her team had pressed the issued, simply allowing her to heal, talking about everything and anything to take her mind of what had happened.

The phone call to her parents, telling them that she was okay, that she was alive, and no, nothing bad was going to happen to her… it was one of the hardest phone calls she had ever had to make. They did know she was alive however, Coulson had phoned them once she was fine, once she had woken up, passing on the news but she had still to speak to them herself.

She had tried to put if off for days, but Fitz had handed her her phone one day, telling her that she had to phone them, that they knew she was alive, but they deserved to hear her voice, they deserved to hear from her.

Tears had been shed, but hearing their voices, it was amazing. It was one of the best things in the world.

She was alive, and she was going to be okay.

***

He was sitting in the lounge late one night, reading an article on one of the tablets. He hadn’t been able to sleep. He had had another nightmare, of Jemma being shot.

Of not being good enough.

Of Jemma dying.

It had been horrible, waking up in a cold sweat, having kicked off his sheets. It had been weeks now since she had woken up, she had even been discharged from the medical, and was sleeping in her room once again. She hadn’t been allowed in the lab yet, Coulson still saying that she wasn’t fit enough for work, that she should take another number of days off until she felt well enough. He didn’t know why he was still worrying over stuff like this. Of Jemma being hurt. Of Jemma being injured.

But halfway through his article, something distracted him, soft footsteps and he looked over his shoulder, and saw Jemma standing there, wearing an old t-shirt of his and a pair of his old plaid pyjama bottoms. She had a soft smile on his face and he returned it. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged, sighing. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t sleep.”

He moved up on the sofa, patting the space beside him, and she lowered herself slowly down onto it. She gave a soft oomph and he knew that it must have been her wound. It was all but healed now but it still caused her a slight bit of pain every now and again. Her legs curled up under her and she allowed her head to come to rest on his shoulder and then, before either of them really knew what was happening, they were kissing.

“Sorry,” he whispered after a moment, pulling away and shaking his head. She frowned up at him, and he continued. “I just… I didn’t think you liked…”

“Liked you like that?” she asked, picking up on what he was hinting at and she gave a soft laugh, shaking her head as if unable to believe him. “Of course I like you like that Fitz. You’re my best friend, and you’ve always been more than that. I… These past few weeks, they’ve made me realise that nothing… that I can’t lose you. Not again. I love you Fitz."

His eyes were wide, staring at her and taking her in. “You love me?” She nodded, beaming at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. He had always been confused about his feelings for her, but the past few weeks, they had told him that what he felt for her, it was more than friendship. And now, here she was confirming that she felt the same way about him. “I love you too,” he whispered back, leaning in and allowing his lips to dance over hers.

The last few months, ever since they had joined the field, there had been so many near death experiences, so many near misses, and there was no certain future. But now, all of that didn’t matter, what mattered was being here, in this moment.

Jemma was alive. She was well. She was healthy, and he wasn’t going to let anything hurt her. Anyone hurt her.

Not again.

“Jemma,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes, her gaze flicking up to him and he just shook his head slightly, and kissed her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support guys, it really means a lot to me and I really hope you enjoyed this fic! I had so much fun writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again guys, I honestly can't stop saying that. I hope you enjoyed this, and the past year, as much as I have and here's to another year of AOS and Fanfic!  
> And lastly, Marvel owns all.


End file.
